


But wait, there's more!

by ImagineYourself



Series: This isn't so bad [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: A decent amount of smut, Alcohol, Angst, Crying, Emotional Hurt, Family Feels, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Instability, Minor Violence, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Tony Stark aka Iron Asshole, romantic schmoop, the author is sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:06:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8046988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineYourself/pseuds/ImagineYourself
Summary: Peter still has problems, and don't you forget it, but he's learning and he's not alone anymore.. . .   It was all in his head, it meant it wasn't real. He was still Peter Parker. He was still Spider-Man. He was still alive and he'd be okay. Right? Oh, God, maybe he wouldn't be. Maybe he was spiraling into darkness and madness and he would never be okay again.





	1. Chapter 1

“I can't believe you're making me do this,” Peter grumbled, following Wade into the house.

{C'mon, Spidey, we can make it fun.}

[This feels awkward.]

“Hey, don't worry about it baby boy. You made a lasting impression.” Wade was smiling at Peter and the younger man just frowned behind his mask. He was fully suited while Wade was relaxed in civvies. The sounds of high-pitched giggling and yelling made Peter wince.

“In retrospect, I see that was a mistake.”

A scream of “Peter!” stopped any response Wade might have had. Peter turned and was immediately tackled to the floor by a small child.

“Hey!” Peter shouted in surprise. The form atop him was shaking with laughter and Peter managed to lift his head and see a mop of familiar hair. “That wasn't very nice.”

Clarissa raised her face up, grinning widely. “Sorry, Peter!” She didn't sound very sorry but she stood up and Peter smoothly got to his feet before she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Peter chuckled and returned the hug. “Happy birthday, Claire-bear,” he told her quietly.

“Come over here! We're starting playing games now! Mom baked a cake but we can't eat it until later.”

Peter looked over his shoulder at Wade as Clarissa took his hand and started dragging him away. Wade was laughing aloud, looking amused beyond belief. Jess stepped up to him and Peter just barely heard her say, “Thanks for bringing him,” before he was out of earshot and surrounded by kids.

It was Clarissa's eighth birthday and she had apparently asked for Peter to be invited. The invitation was passed from Jess to Wade to Peter himself and—albeit reluctantly—Peter agreed to attend. He had worried for days about what to get her as a present until Wade had sat him down and told him that just going to see her would be enough.

“Wanna play Twister?” Clarissa was asking as all three of her other friends looked at Peter with expressions ranging from shock to excitement.

“Who are you?” a young boy asked, coming over to look Peter up and down.

Clarissa tugged on Peter's hand where she still held it. “This is—”

“I'm Spider-Man!” Peter cut her off. “I'm a superhero!”

A chorus of “Whoa!” and “Cool!” filled the room.

Peter leaned down to Clarissa and said to her quietly, “Peter's my name but it's a secret, okay? I gotta have a secret identity because I'm a superhero.”

Clarissa looked up at him and then nodded gravely. “Right.”

{Can we just adopt her?}

[What if we trained her? We could have a little spider sidekick?]

{Oh my God that is a fantastic idea!}

“So, Twister?” Peter asked, straightening and looking at them all. The kids cheered. “I warn you guys, I'm really good at this game.”

Clarissa laughed. Peter looked behind him as the kids all ran to set up the game. Wade and Jess were standing side by side, Jess' hand resting on Wade's shoulder as they both looked on fondly over the proceedings. Peter gave a little shrug of his shoulders as if to say, “What can you do?” and Wade returned to him the most disgustingly happy smile.

 

In the end, he won Twister easily, but Clarissa was still happy so it was really win-win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is grade A filler for a simple idea I had, please watch yourselves on the rest of the fic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a kind of panic attack/mental breakdown, if that squicks you out.

{Behind you!}

“Thanks, I got it.”

Peter spun around and his foot connected with the chest of a guard, sending him back into a wall where he collapsed, coughing up blood.

[Is he dead?]

“I hope not.” Peter winced and ducked, narrowly missing a bullet aimed for his head. “'This is an easy job',” he muttered, voice in a high falsetto. “'We just want to test your skills. In and out, that's all'.”

{Lying pieces of—}

“Send for backup!” one guard yelled just before Peter's webs attached to his front and he was yanked forward to use as a stepping stone. Peter launched himself off the guy, barreling into another and wrapping his legs around yet another man's throat to choke him until he was down.

[We need to get out of here.]

“Not without the data,” Peter argued. He was trying to hold himself back and it was getting harder and harder.

He couldn't kill any of these people, and that was putting a damper on his mood as well as making his job incredibly more difficult. Peter could just too easily kill any one of these guys with a well placed punch; his strength had always been a force to reckon with. As much as he wanted fun, he was getting frustration, and the guards kept coming.

[Worry about that later, we need to get out before you actually kill someone or die trying!]

“Not without the data!” Peter yelled. He was grimacing, grinding his teeth together. He let out a wild shout as he punched a guy off of him, breaking his arm. Seeing more black suited dickbags racing down the hall to him, Peter groaned loudly and backed off. He quickly made a makeshift block in the hall with webs, hoping that it would take them long enough to cut through for him to get what he needed.

Peter raced further into the building. He knew which office he needed, he'd studied and memorized the floor plans for the whole place.

{I'm gonna punch that smug Stark bastard when we see him.}

[You don't have arms. Or legs. Or a body.]

{I can picture it now. Oh he'd be so mad.}

Breathing out a deep sigh, Peter found the right room. He walked along the ceiling, making his way towards the desk in the far corner. He quickly pulled out the drive Stark had given him and plugged it into the computer there, watching a light flash to tell him it was working. The monitor came on and he watched Stark's program do its magic for a moment.

[Punching him sounds counterproductive. We're supposed to be getting on his good side.]

{He's so mean, though! Does he even have a good side?}

“Shut up and stop worrying about it,” Peter said a bit nastily.

{Yikes, what's got your panties in a twist?}

The sounds of feet and yelling distracted Peter and he glanced to the doorway. The program wasn't yet done and Peter huffed angrily, banging his fist against the ceiling.

[Petey is just antsy. We haven't seen Wade since he left on assignment last week.]

{He probably just needs a good dicking, huh?}

“I do not,” Peter growled. “I'm sick of you two _talking_ all the damn time!”

Moving back towards the door, Peter made a block there, frowning the whole time. He could leave out the window, he knew, despite how unappealing that sounded considering this building was the only highrise on the block and he'd have to be really careful about his landing.

{Don't wanna break our legs. That would be bad.}

“Tell me something I don't know.”

{The square root of nine hundred and six point oh one is thirty point one.}

[How in the hell . . ?]

Peter barked a cold laugh. He returned to the computer and the flashing light had turned off so Peter unplugged the drive and tucked it into his suit again. “Time to go, boys.”

{Finally!}

The guards at the door were shouting at him and trying to get through the webbing. Peter saluted them with two fingers and broke a window in the back of the room with his fist. He slid himself out just as the guys got through the door. Taking a breath, he jumped to avoid a bullet.

Falling from eighteen stories is a lot less fun when there was nothing for Peter to catch himself on besides the building he'd just left. Managing to get his webs placed right to help him down to ground level without dying proved to be only a little bit difficult and Peter ended up hitting the asphalt a little too hard, rolling forward to lessen the impact.

He breathed out.

Guards were coming out the front doors of the office building and Peter was off, running down the streets and using his webs where he was able. He was a long way from the tower but with a grim face, he headed there anyway.

{I wonder what kind of info we picked up.}

[We could stop by the house and check it out.]

“No. We're going to the tower.”

{Aww, Spidey! Aren't you a little bit curious?}

“Yeah, but I'm not stopping.”

[Whatever it is, it's important enough to get us nearly killed.]

“So what?”

{So, we should see what it is. Maybe it's plans for weapons?}

[Or files on experiments.]

{Maybe it's Hydra!}

“Or, it might be something we don't care about and it means nothing to us.” Peter was just _so_ close to punching himself in the head. It wouldn't shut them up, and he knew it, but he was so done for the day and all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with Wade and sleep in quietness. Of course, all of that was currently implausible.

[The old Spidey would have checked it out in a heartbeat.]

Peter dropped to the ground.

“Excuse me?” he breathed, offended.

[I said—]

“I know what you said. Why would you say that?”

[Because it's true. You're so soft now. Always taking orders from Fury and the Avengers. We never do anything fun anymore, they've got you on a leash too tight. We've been stuck like this for months.]

“It's our job, now.”

{It's not a fun job.}

[It's a shit job. We should just get out now. Who cares about Fury's threats, what could he do to us?]

“We're not invincible,” Peter said, his voice pitched low.

[Aren't we? You used to think we were. We were untouchable once, when we were the Spider.]

A tremor ran down Peter's spine and he told the box darkly, “I was wrong.”

[You're soft!]

Peter shook his head and started moving again, glad when neither of the voices said anything else right away. He made it to the tower with barely anything else from them and it was almost a little unnerving.

Peter dropped his package in the lab Tony had requested him to put it in and he took the elevator up to the common room, thinking of sleep. Most of the team had their own rooms for when anyone wanted to stay at the tower, Peter and Wade included—though their room was shared and that was perfectly okay by them.

It was pretty late, but Clint was still lounging around with Natasha. They had some movie on in the background, Clint was reading and Nat had her feet in his lap as she painted her nails, calculatingly precise.

“Hey, Peter,” Clint called to him as Peter passed through. He just grunted and the archer raised a brow. “How'd the mission go?”

“Sucked,” Peter told him.

{Royally,} Yellow agreed.

Peter's mouth twisted with distaste. He was really, truly not in the mood for the boxes' antics.

“Get into trouble?” Clint asked. He set his book down on Natasha's legs. She barely glanced up.

Peter plopped into a plush chair and pulled his mask off, running a hand through his hair. “You could say that. There were a lot more guards than I anticipated. Do you guys ever have trouble trying _not_ to kill people when you're fighting?”

Natasha looked him over, finally. “You learn how to fight without being lethal with a lot of practice.”

“You didn't—?” Clint started.

“Of course not,” Peter sighed.

[We wanted to.]

“No, _you_ wanted to.”

{I would have liked it, I have to admit.}

Groaning, Peter tilted his head back and shut his eyes. “You're not helping.”

“Do they distract you?” Clint asked carefully. “When you're in the thick of it?”

Peter looked at him, lips pursed. “Sometimes, yeah.”

{No way, we're always looking out for you.}

[We have to get your back, Petey, no one else will. You need us for that.]

“I don't _need_ you for anything. You're annoying and should shut up now.” Peter huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He was being moody and petulant but he was just so fed up with it all.

Barton and Nat shared a look. “Maybe you should think about trying to find ways to block them out or work around them,” Clint suggested.

“I—”

Peter was cut off as White yelled, [Don't you dare!]

{Block us out? But you need to listen to us!}

[Don't listen to that bow towing bastard, he doesn't even know us. He doesn't know you.]

Peter was frowning. “I don't have to—”

[I'm serious. Don't even try it. Don't even consider it.]

{We're only here to help, Spidey! You gotta believe that.}

[We've always been here with you.]

{And we'll always be together!}

[No matter what anyone says, we're good for you.]

{Remember all the stuff we've been through together?}

“Peter? You still with us?” Clint's voice broke through to Peter and he looked up sharply.

“I-I should go.” Peter stood, feeling doubtful. Two sides of himself were warring. Parts of him said that Clint was probably right and it wouldn't hurt to try and figure out how to deal with the boxes better. The other part sounded a lot like White, even though he wasn't actually speaking, and said that Peter shouldn't bother with it. The boxes were right.

“Hey, kid, are you okay?” Romanov asked.

[You're fine. You're just confused. You need us, don't worry.]

Peter didn't know if he liked the tone White was using to feed him the words. “No, I—I don't need you,” he said quietly. He started to move away, out of the common room.

{I like you, Spidey. I just like making you laugh and providing the best commentary that any great antihero deserves!}

[We're the Spider. We've got to stick together, right?]

“I don't know.” Peter's voice was a whisper.

Taking another step proved to be difficult because suddenly there was a hand on either of Peter's shoulders, holding him back. He glanced up and saw both Clint and Natasha at his sides, their expressions of concern exactly mirrored.

“What's going on?” Barton asked him softly, meeting Peter's gaze.

Peter had a hard time trying to answer. The boxes were whispering to him, voices echoing in his head. He shook himself, trying to clear the fog that was starting to fill his brain. Blaming it on exhaustion and the quick turnaround of his mood, he lifted his palms to his temples, covering his ears.

He was being guided to sit on the couch and Peter followed the silent directions, trying to focus on his breathing over everything else, even the boxes. Someone was rubbing his back and he was being lightly sandwiched between two relaxed bodies even as he was tense and hunched over.

{Spidey, listen to us.}

[Don't ignore this. Don't ignore us.]

{We're good for you, we look out for you. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for us.}

[We keep you safe. We keep you happy. You need us.]

“No, no, no,” Peter was mumbling. He wanted them to stop talking but he couldn't stop hearing them just by covering his ears. It was in his head, it was all in his head.

He tried to take comfort in that. It was all in his head, it meant it wasn't real. He was still Peter Parker. He was still Spider-Man. He was still alive and he'd be okay. Right? Oh, God, maybe he wouldn't be. Maybe he was spiraling into darkness and madness and he would never be okay again.

{You'll be okay with us.}

[We'll make sure of it, Petey. Trust us.]

Someone was trying to pull one of his hands away from his ear and Peter let them after a long moment. They pressed something between his ear and palm and it took Peter a lot longer than he would have liked to realize he was hearing his name being repeated over and over in a question.

“Peter? Can you hear me? C'mon, answer me.”

“Wade?” Peter breathed.

“Hey, baby. That's my boy. Clint called me, he said the boxes are acting up.”

“Wade, they're not stopping,” he whined. His other hand left his other ear to press against his eyes.

“Whatever they're saying, they _should_ stop. C'mon White, Yellow, I know you guys can hear me through Petey. Whatever you're saying, let it go.”

{Is that Wade?}

[He's not here. Why is he talking to us?]

{Is that a phone?}

“I don't need them,” Peter whispered, “right? They're . . . White says he's helping me but I-I don't think he is.”

[But Peter—]

“No, baby boy, you don't need them. They need you, remember? They only exist because of you but you don't need them. Don't listen if they tell you anything else, okay? You trust me, right?”

A sob wracked Peter's chest and the hand that was on his back rubbed a little harder. Another set of fingers went to his hair, petting him comfortingly. “Yeah.”

“Then listen to me. Whatever they say, they're not helping. And it's okay to be confused about it. They're almost like a part of you, but that doesn't mean you have to listen to them. They can lie, even to you.”

{We'd never lie to you, Spidey.}

“Yellow says he wouldn't lie,” Peter told Wade, his voice breaking. Tears were pricking in his eyes and he didn't know what to do about it.

“They're twisting things up, Petey. You don't have to believe them, you don't have to listen to them. You hear me?”

“I'm sorry.” His lips trembled and Peter curled into himself more. “I don't know what to—Wade I—“

“Hey, hey, just chill. It's okay. Don't be sorry, baby, you can always talk to me. Are they still talking?”

Mumbling, Peter replied, “Not right now.”

“Okay, that's good. Is Clint still with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think you're gonna be okay? Can you hand the phone to him for me?”

Peter let out a breath. “Yeah, okay.”

“I'm gonna talk to him for just a minute and then I have to go, but I love you. I'm sorry I can't be there right now, but Clint will help out until I get home.”

“I—okay. Come home soon.” Sniffling quietly, Peter held out the phone towards Clint next to him and he said, “Wade wants to talk to you.”

Clint took the phone and Peter couldn't really hear what was being said but he was rubbing at his eyes with both hands. Then, both Clint and Romanov were wrapping their arms around him. Peter shifted around and Natasha let him lean into her chest, his head in her shoulder and his arms around her.

It was almost weird, being so close to them, especially Nat, but it was also really nice. Peter was trying to calm his breathing and his now racing thoughts since the echoing fog of hopelessness had lifted a bit.

There were two heartbeats drowning out his own, two steady sets of thumps, except Nat's still had that telltale murmur. Peter felt warm and safe and it was good but it was making him wish with an aching heart that Wade was the one with him.

When he finally backed away, an uncounted number of minutes later, Peter looked blearily between them. Natasha still had concern in her eyes but her face was set somewhat determinedly. Clint's expression was more sad, though he was trying to smile at Peter encouragingly.

“Better?” Clint asked.

Peter nodded. “They're not talking anymore. For now, at least.” He looked at his hands in his lap. “Thanks,” he told them quietly.

“We care about you, too, kid,” Clint said.

Natasha nodded. “Even if it doesn't seem like it. You're a part of the team now.”

He reluctantly removed himself from the couch, feeling bad. Feeling shameful. Now that he'd been with SHIELD for the better part of a year, he could definitely see himself as part of the team, but it still felt funny. He didn't really belong. He was way more messed up than any of his peers and that caused him more than a little stress.

As he took a step away, a hand caught his arm. Romanov looked at him with a steady gaze. “Don't be afraid to ask for help, Peter. We'll be here if you need anything.”

Peter watched her for a long moment before he ducked his head and retreated. It was good, he knew, to have people to help and support him. It was good to have the team and a place to live and be around people who cared. It was good to get help.

So why did it feel so bad?

Sighing to himself, Peter finally peeled off his suit and crawled into the bed he and Wade usually shared in their room. He was far too tired to make it home across the city and besides, this bed smelled more like him and Wade then their bed at home these days.

{You shut us up,} Yellow mumbled with some surprise.

Peter buried his face into his pillow, not wanting to answer.

[I get it.]

{You do?}

[Petey's learning.]

{He is?}

[Yeah. He is.]

White left it at that, and Peter was thankful. He drifted to sleep quickly, exhausted.


	3. Chapter 3

Thor brought Asgardian mead. And he brought a lot of it.

With the new addition of Sam, the return of Wade, and the recovery of Bucky back to New York, the team had good reason to party. Bruce had politely declined the invitation but Pepper had taken his stead and vowed to keep an eye on Tony.

Peter was nursing a glass of vodka and ice, courtesy of Natasha and her fantastic taste in alcohol. He was cuddled up into one side of a couch with Wade's hand resting on his knee, the scarred man's other hand busy with another cold beer Clint had brought before the archer had plopped down on Wade's other side. Natasha herself was perched on the other arm of the couch, the four of them just barely making the space work.

Another couch was full of Sam and Bucky, Steve sandwiched between them. The blonde held a glass of mead—he'd already drank a few but was surprisingly still coherent—and was laughing raucously, his head thrown back. Wilson was grinning as he sipped a weirdly blue concoction. Even Barnes appeared to be having a good time, though he had decided not to drink and no one pressured him about it.

Thor, meanwhile, was gulping mead at the bar like a fish and clapped Tony on the back too hard when he choked a bit on the water Pepper had handed to him—he'd probably expected it to be another drink. Stark gave her a dirty look but Peter thought it was probably a good thing considering how much the man had already drank.

“It amazes me how little humans have a tolerance for drinking!” Thor said loudly. His cheeks were red as he laughed and laughed.

“We can't all have redundant nervous systems,” Clint replied mildly.

{Did he just compare Thor to a krogan?}

[I thought the nervous system was already redundant?]

Peter giggled into a hand, his head leaning forward to rest on Wade's shoulder. He was feeling warm and comfortable, the vodka really starting to get to him. Never having been one for drinking—also considering he was still under the legal age to drink—Peter had a pretty low tolerance and was beginning to get quite drunk.

“Hey, Wade,” Peter whispered into his boyfriend's ear.

“Yeah?” Wade turned his face, expression relaxed and happy.

{Aww, look at those dopey eyes.}

[You're gross.]

{No we're just in loooooove!}

[You're drunk. So's Peter. Am I the only sober one here?]

{Are you sober? Am I sober? How does this work?}

Peter just looked at him for a few long seconds. Then he smiled and smushed his nose into Wade's shoulder again. “Never mind. Forgot what I was gonna say.”

With a low chuckle, Wade's hand patted his knee. “Okay, Petey.”

“Hey, Wade,” Steve called, taking their attention back to the party. “How did you like Egypt?”

“Yeah, you never did get around to telling us how the assignment went,” Clint pointed out.

“Hot.” Wade laughed. “Pretty dusty at times. But it was definitely one of the most interesting places I've ever been. A little too far from home, though, if you know what I mean.”

There were a few chuckles had until Tony said bluntly, “I'm honestly surprised the two of you are still together.”

“What do you mean?” Wade asked. He got a bit tense and Peter could feel it.

Tony waved a hand. “He's like . . . a weirdo.”

“Who, me?” Peter asked, sitting up with a frown.

{I think he means you.}

[He's insulting us?]

{He hasn't done that in a while.}

“I'm not weird,” Peter pouted.

“You're pretty weird,” Clint said, tone light. “Not that it's a bad thing. Makes you more fun, usually.”

“You've got the whole voice thing,” Tony continued. He was wiggling his fingers in Peter's direction like that would explain what he was trying to say.

[Wait, is he talking about _us_ now?]

“Why does that matter?” Wade asked. His hand was tight on Peter's knee and Peter glanced at him to see his mouth set in a flat line. Next to him, Clint was looking considerably less amused and Natasha had a blank face.

Everyone was silent, waiting for Tony to answer.

“Uh, well, it's just . . .” Stark started, fumbling over his words. “He's gotta be hard to handle, right?”

“Not at all.”

“I mean, he's hard for the rest of us to handle—”

“No he isn't,” Natasha said.

Steve was watching Tony with narrowed eyes. “Peter's been through a lot, Tony, just like everyone else.” He sounded pretty sober and as Peter glanced around the room, he noticed everyone looking a bit more sober. The fun had been sucked out of the room.

“Yeah, but we're not _crazy—_ ”

“That's enough!” Pepper's voice cut him off. She was on her feet and Peter was honestly surprised that she was the one to break first. He was kind of surprised at the whole situation, his head still a bit foggy.

{Whoa.}

[Never though _Pepper_ would stand up for us.]

{Literally!}

“Don't you dare talk like that, Tony. You should apologize to Peter right now.” Pepper's finger was pointing across the room towards Peter, her face righteously angry. Like an avenging angel. Funny how she wasn't actually part of the Avengers.

{Is it weird I find this kind of hot?}

[Yes.]

Peter didn't find it hot. He was watching with wide eyes as Tony took in her words and started looking a little repentant.

He didn't want to find out if Stark was actually going to turn and look at him and Peter was up and leaving, setting his glass on a table as he moved away from everyone.

{Wait, Petey, we should see if he actually apologizes!}

[Wouldn't that be a sight. The great Stark, groveling.]

{He should beg for forgiveness.}

Peter shook his head and he heard his name being called by a couple of different voices but he just escaped quickly to the elevator and told Jarvis to take him to the labs. The elevator moved effortlessly fast and he was stumbling down the hall and into his lab, not even bothering to turn the lights on.

Equipment was scattered over the counters, a few experimental trials for different studies in the middle of investigation. Peter ignored it all and crawled up the wall to the nest in the corner. It had been there since his first weeks in the lab and he'd rebuilt it several times to make it more comfortable for when he spent long nights in the room or wanted naps.

Now, he settled into it, his head buried in his arms and his knees curled up to his chest.

{Petey?}

[You don't want Stark to apologize?]

“No, I don't.”

[Why not?]

“Because he's right.”

{About us?}

“Yeah.”

{But everyone was saying—}

“I don't care what everyone says! I know I'm not fun to be around. I know I'm crazy and it's not fair that I'm making all of them have to deal with me just by being here.”

[What about Wade?]

“He shouldn't have to either.”

[So what are you going to do?]

{We're not going to run away, are we?}

Peter shivered. The lab was a little cold and it was seeping through the fabric of his shirt and jeans. “No,” he sighed. “I don't want to leave. I don't think I could leave Wade even if I wanted to.”

{He's good for us, right?}

“Yeah. He's good for us.”

[So what are you going to do? Mope here all night?]

Peter was saved from responding by the sound of the door sliding open. There was only one heartbeat, one set of feet, so Peter at least knew he wasn't being ambushed by the team.

“Pete? Jarvis says you're in here. Can you come down?” Wade's voice asked softly from below him.

“No.”

“Tony wants to say he's sorry. He didn't mean what he said.”

“Yeah he did. I'm not stupid, Wade.”

Wade sighed. “Okay, you got me. But he'll at least apologize because you deserve that much.”

“I don't want him to.”

“Why not?”

Peter let out a long breath and said quietly, “I'm tired. I just want to go to sleep.”

“If you come down I can carry you back to our room. How does that sound?”

Peter thought it over. It did actually sound pretty appealing. “Okay,” he muttered. He dropped to the floor and saw Wade with hands on his hips, looking amused. “Only if it's piggyback.”

[You're such a child.]

{Piggyback rides are the best, excuse you.}

“Can do, baby boy.” Wade smiled and turned around so that Peter could hop onto his back. Wade's hands fit under his thighs, hiking him up further, and Peter wrapped his arms loosely around his boyfriend's neck, leaning in to press his face into the back of Wade's head.

Wade carried him to the elevator and all the way to their room. They passed by the common room, where the party had been going on, but it was empty save for Natasha who was lounging on a couch and finishing a drink with a phone in her hand. Peter waved with a few fingers at her when she glanced up at them. Her mouth quirked into a smile.

{Nat is the best.}

[I thought you liked Clint the most?]

{Well, Wade is actually the best, but Nat's getting there. And Clint is still awesome.}

“Mhmm,” Peter agreed, nuzzling his nose into Wade's short hair.

Then they were in their room and Wade deposited Peter onto their bed. Neither of them spoke and Peter was frowning to himself again, curling onto his side until Wade crept over him, on his hands and knees. He was grinning as he pushed on the bed, making Peter bounce on the mattress.

Peter was still trying to frown but it was getting harder. Finally, Wade stopped and he scooted down to push Peter onto his back and lift his shirt up partway. Peter knew what was coming but before he could put his hands out to stop Wade, the older man had leaned down and pressed his mouth to Peter's belly, blowing raspberries into his skin.

Peter all but squealed with laughter and he squirmed, protesting with broken pleas of “No, no, no!” and trying to push at Wade's shoulders half-heartedly. Wade just shifted around until he could grab one of Peter's hands and hold it at his side. When his thumb pressed into Peter's wrist, it made Peter gasp and moan.

Laughing against him, Wade tickled Peter with another couple of breaths before he broke away, grinning. “You love it.”

“You're a jerk!” Peter mumbled, his cheeks flushed. Wade was still pressing into his silk gland. “That's cheating!”

“No it's not,” Wade argued, leaning down and catching Peter's retort in a kiss. Peter's free hand moved to cup the back of Wade's neck, holding him there to taste every inch of his mouth and ignoring the bitter undertone of beer.

“Wade,” Peter breathed when his boyfriend moved back to trail his lips across Peter's neck.

Looking down at him and winking, Wade asked, “Still tired?”

Peter groaned and squirmed against him, legs trapped underneath the larger man. “I think you know the answer to that.”

One brow raised and then Wade let go of his wrist and Peter almost mourned the loss but Wade was shifting them around to sit between Peter's thighs, his hands on the button of Peter's jeans. Before Peter could come up with something—anything—coherent to say, his dick was being pulled out of his boxers and he was quickly getting hard.

Without any warning, Wade ducked down and slid his mouth halfway down Peter's cock. Peter almost shouted, managing to throw a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise. It wouldn't do for everyone in the tower to hear him and Wade going at it. Not that they hadn't before, considering Wade's voracious appetite for Peter's skin and Peter's affinity for being loud.

“Wade, God, _fuck_ ,” Peter gasped. He covered his lips with both hands to muffle the throaty groan pulled from him when Wade gripped at his hips to hold him down as he sucked particularly hard, bobbing his head.

Wade's mouth was slick and warm and Peter couldn't take it when one of those hands left his hip only to reach down and fondle at his balls. Whimpering and writhing, Peter tried to buck into Wade's mouth, only to find he was being held down too tightly.

A last lick was laid to the head of Peter's cock before Wade was moving up, pressing his wet lips to Peter's stomach, his chest. Peter's shirt was pushed up to his armpits and he raised his hands from his mouth to cover his eyes when Wade bit into a nipple.

“You're beautiful,” Wade whispered. He kissed the little pink nub and went to the other one. “You're perfect.”

“No, I'm not,” Peter whined.

“Yeah you are. Perfect for me. My baby boy,” Wade told him softly. He licked his way up to Peter's collarbone, tugging his shirt out of the way to bite into the skin there. “You're so _good_ , Petey. You're good to me. And good _for_ me. And, fuck, the sounds you make when I'm fucking you are so hot and perfect.”

Peter barked a laugh and then his breath caught when Wade sucked and bit into his throat. “Wade—” he started, breaking off in a breathy moan. “Wade, stop talking.”

“Nope.” The scarred man shifted up enough to press a kiss to Peter's lips. “Not until you get it through that thick skull just how much I care about you and want you to feel good and how much I fucking love you.”

Peter removed his hands from his eyes to look up at Wade. The man was smiling at him, his expression so happy and serious and Peter couldn't get his fingers around his face fast enough to pull him into a crushing kiss

“Get your dick out already,” Peter breathed against him. “Wanna come together.”

Above him, Wade shuddered and he quickly worked to remedy the situation. He got a hand around Peter and himself and they were rutting together wildly, panting into each other's mouths as they tried to kiss and failed. Peter didn't mind, he just wanted Wade close to him and Wade seemed all too happy to oblige.

It didn't take long for Peter to lock up in orgasm, his eyes squeezing shut as his moan was muffled by Wade's mouth on his. Wade followed quickly after, their come mixing over Peter's stomach.

Together, they just breathed for a long time. Peter guided Wade away by shoving at his chest and he got the scarred man to fall onto the bed at his side. Peter shimmied out of his shirt, used it to wipe the come from his skin, and tossed it to the floor, the rest of his clothes following after.

Wade barely managed to get out of his pants, leaving his boxers and shirt on before he pulled Peter into his chest. “How you feelin'?” he asked, whispering into Peter's hair.

“Tired,” Peter replied. Wade chuckled and it made Peter's lips curve into a smile. “Wade?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Very quietly, Peter told him, “I love you too, you know.”

After a long pause, Wade kissed his head. “I know.”

 

. . .

 

In the morning, Peter left Wade in bed to make a trip to the kitchen and saw Tony there. The meanie looked like he was struggling to say something.

Peter took some pity and said, “I'm not mad.”

He poured two cups of coffee as Stark asked, “You're not?”

[I'm still a little mad.]

{Yeah, I'd still like him to apologize.}

[Grovel. On his knees, preferably.]

“Nah, we won't make him do that.” Peter hid his smile in his mug as Tony's face paled. “I still think you can be a real dick, though,” he added, more seriously.

“Yeah, that . . . You're not wrong. Look, kid, I shouldn't have said what I did. So, I'm sorry.” Stark looked away, his jaw clenched, but Peter knew he wasn't lying.

Peter just nodded. “Apology accepted.” Tony visibly relaxed and Peter picked up the second mug of coffee he'd filled, making his way out to return to Wade. At the exit, he stopped and called over his shoulder, “And Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“If you ever call me crazy again, I don't care how drunk you are, I'll break your legs.”

Tony's gulp of fear was audible and Peter made a show of laughing as he left the man far behind.

{God, it feels good to be bad.}

[Let's hope we can make good on that promise.]

Peter smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have at least two more ideas I want to get out for this story and then I might call it done. We'll see.
> 
> Also, don't get me wrong I love Tony to pieces but also he's just so good at being a dickbag.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To preface this, I'm sorry. Please be aware that you might hate me after this chapter because it's really heartbreaking. But also, it's important.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no! You have to breathe. Please, breathe!”

“Peter, he's dead.” Wade's voice was breaking through to him but Peter shook his head, his sight swimming with tears.

“No, he can't be dead! He can't be, I-I can't . . .”

Peter's hands were pressing over the man's chest tenderly. His ribs were broken, his lungs punctured and filled with blood. He'd coughed for a few long moments, choking, until he finally grew still, limp under Peter's touch.

Hands were tugging on Peter's arms, trying to get him to move away from the body. Peter was sobbing, unable to breathe properly or even think coherent thoughts. He was completely out of it, his face being held to a familiar chest and arms around his shaking body. His mask was removed so fingers could pet at his hair and Peter could feel the fabric against his face getting wet with his tears.

“What happened?” Steve's voice was hard and it filtered past the haze in his head.

“I don't know.” Wade spoke softly, his hands still working to calm Peter, who was nowhere near calm. He was still crying, almost wailing with anguish, his hands were fists resting on Wade's chest.

“Honestly, I don't know,” Wade continued. “Something to do with this guy, I don't know who he is but I don't think he was supposed to be here. He's dead now but—as you can see—Pete's kind of beyond reason right now.”

“I killed him,” Peter whispered. He said it again, louder. “It's my fault, I killed him! Just like Harry, I fucking killed him. I didn't mean—I didn't want—I—”

“Shh, shh, Petey, calm down.”

“No!” Peter yelled. He shoved at Wade and with his eyes tightly shut he crumpled to the floor on his knees, holding his head. “I'm gonna die now. I'm gonna die, Fury's gonna kill me. I'm sorry, _fuck_ , I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—Fuck!”

“Who is Harry?” he heard Steve ask.

Wade kneeled beside him, a hand on Peter's back, trying to soothe him. Peter didn't have the words to tell him it wasn't helping but he didn't want to tell Wade to stop. “Someone he used to know. He died like this, the same way. It was an accident.”

“Was this an accident?”

“I don't know.” Wade leaned into Peter, his voice close to Peter's ear. “Can you tell me what happened, Petey?”

Peter shook his head violently, his fingers clutching at his hair. He was breathing too hard. He couldn't think. He couldn't feel anything but the pain of his fingers digging into his own scalp. He couldn't understand anything. Wade was saying something but Peter couldn't hear him anymore.

Finally, the only thing that got through to him was White's voice, low and deadly, telling him, [We have to run.]

“No, I-I can't.”

[You have to. You broke the contract. Fury will execute us.]

“I don't know where to go,” Peter cried.

[Stand up.]

Slowly, Peter tried to get to his feet and there were hands helping him up but he didn't know who they belonged to.

[We have to find the exit. Can you find the nearest way out?]

“No, I don't know, I can't—”

[Come on, Peter. Listen to me. We need to leave.]

Peter took a step forward, his eyes blearily blinking open but he couldn't understand what he was looking at. Colors and shapes but nothing made sense. When he tried to take another step, he was grabbed tightly and held back, someone's body right behind him.

Lips were next to his ear and a voice was asking him, “Tell me what's going on. Please, Pete, can you talk to me?”

Very slowly, Peter turned around. He saw Wade's face, looking at him with real, raw fear. “Wade?” he asked softly. He had completely forgotten that the man was even there with him. All that mattered was getting out alive and running.

[No. Don't stop to talk to him. We have to get out, Peter.]

“I'm here, Petey,” Wade said. He framed Peter's face with his hands and held onto him, making sure Peter was looking at him. “Can you hear me now? Can you talk to me?”

[Peter, listen to me. Fury is going to kill us. We _need_ to get out now before it's too late.]

Peter tried to look around but Wade's hands were holding him too tightly. Reflexively, Peter grabbed onto Wade's wrists, but he didn't pull his hands away. “White says we're gonna die.”

“Why does White think that?” Wade asked him, his voice gentle and coaxing.

“Because Fury is going to kill us.”

“Why is Fury going to kill you?”

“Because I killed someone and Fury made me promise not to.”

[Stop talking, get out.]

“Why did you kill someone?”

Peter bit his lip, his hands shaking. He blinked a few times and more tears were falling from his lashes and down onto Wade's hands. “I didn't mean to.”

“What happened, Petey?”

“He scared me.”

“He scared you?” The question wasn't accusatory, just curious.

Peter nodded slightly. “He came up behind me and I-I reacted without thinking. My head was screaming at me. I hit him too hard, I think.”

“But you didn't mean to kill him?”

He shook his head. Peter closed his eyes and he sniffled. “I wanna be good,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I've been so _good_ and I—I fucked up. Wade, I fucked up.”

[We'll figure it out if you can just get out of here. Peter we need to go.]

“Hey, baby, it's gonna be okay. Everyone fucks up sometimes.” Wade's thumbs brushed tears from Peter's cheeks and when Peter opened his eyes, he saw that the scarred man was looking away, at someone else.

Peter suddenly realized that Steve, Natasha, and Tony were all standing around him and Wade and looking on with a mix of emotions. Trying to duck away, Peter was stopped by Wade's hands on his shoulders and he was pulled back into Wade's body protectively.

Everything was silent for a long moment until Tony said stiffly, “Let's go.”

“You're not going to touch him,” Wade growled, holding tightly onto Peter, making it so Peter could barely see anything.

“We're not going to,” Steve told them placatingly. Tony and Natasha turned away, and Wade followed after, taking Peter with him. Steve walked behind them.

On the quinjet, Peter held onto Wade like a lifeline. He was shaking constantly, a fine tremor in his whole body, even curled up in Wade's lap. He was hiding himself as best as he could. White was silent, Yellow had yet to come back, and Peter was too trapped in his own shamefully terrified thoughts to care very much.

When they landed at the tower, Peter was still caught up in himself so much so that he didn't realize they were moving through the halls until Steve said, “We're going straight to Fury.”

Then he stopped moving, making Wade stop with him. “No. No we can't.” Peter held his hands over his face. “I _can't_ ,” he whimpered.

Wade caught him around the waist, guiding him into taking a few more steps. “It's okay. Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise, Petey.”

“I can't, Wade! I can't. I have to get out and get somewhere safe and-and I don't know. But Fury—”

“He won't do anything. If he tries, I'll personally fight him, okay? I swear, Petey, it's going to be okay. It was an accident. Accidents happen.”

Peter shook his head. “No, no, not for me. He won't believe me, he'll want to kill me because I—because I—” He couldn't continue, breaking off in a sob.

“Peter.”

Steve's voice shocked him into looking up at the man. Steve's face was drawn like he was sad, almost pitying. It scared Peter, confirming his fears that he was definitely walking into his ultimate death.

“It's okay,” Rogers said. His eyes got softer, his mouth frowning but not in the way Peter thought. More like he was sad to see him so upset. “We've all made mistakes. We've all had blood on our hands. The important thing here is that we know what happened. We know you didn't do it on purpose and we know how bad you feel about it. Fury will see reason. He won't pointlessly do something drastic.”

Peter stared at him for a long time. He wiped his eyes and nodded, dropping his gaze as Wade urged him to keep walking. They went along to Fury's office, losing Tony along the way so it was just Steve and Nat escorting them.

He was standing, eyes on the floor and shoulders low with defeat, when he heard Fury say, “I'd like to speak with Parker alone for a moment.”

It was obvious the director already knew why they were there. He knew what had happened. Wade started to protest but Natasha touched his arm and drew him away. Then Peter was by himself, not daring to look up and see the disappointment he was sure to see in Fury's eyes.

When Fury spoke, his tone was softer than Peter expected. “I'm surprised you're still standing here. I thought you might run.”

Peter's voice was hoarse as he replied quietly, “I wanted to.”

“What kept you?”

“Wade. And Steve. White isn't talking anymore.”

“Were the voices telling you to leave?”

“Just White.” The silence that fell after Peter's words made his ears hum with static.

“Did they tell you to kill that man?”

Peter shook his head and a tear rolled down to his chin. “No.”

“Then why did you?” Fury asked, ever so curious.

Again, Peter shook his head. “I wasn't expecting him to be there,” he whispered. “I-I just reacted. I didn't hold back.”

After a long moment, Fury said, “He died the same way as Harry Osborn, didn't he?”

A choked sob was torn from Peter's throat and he finally, finally looked up to see Fury standing at his desk, not even facing Peter, but looking out a window. “Yes,” Peter told him, the word falling from his lips sounding broken.

“This is why you're upset?”

“Yes,” Peter said, in exactly the same way. He held his hands to his face, fighting back the wracking sobs that wanted to break free. He tried to breathe. “I didn't mean to kill him. Harry. Or that-that man. I didn't mean to,” he insisted. Losing the battle, Peter's lungs were shaking, his breath shuddering. “I'm s-sorry. I'm so s-sorry. I never—I didn't want this—”

Peter sank to the floor, his whole body quaking. Fury didn't say anything for a long time and he was too caught up in crying and sniffling to notice that someone else had entered the room until a pair of feet was standing right next to him.

“Rogers,” Fury said stiffly, “I want you to add Parker to your weekly meetings with Wilson and Barnes.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve told him.

Peter looked up, ignoring the part of him that knew he probably looked pathetic and worn down, because he was amazed. “You're not going to kill me?” Peter asked quietly.

Fury looked at him for a moment and his expression was utterly emotionless. “You saved my life once. Consider us even. You will join Rogers and the other vets each week for group therapy. I also want you to work with Romanov on honing your senses so that nothing like this ever happens again. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Peter mumbled. Steve held out a hand to him and Peter took it, still shaking but accepting the soldier's help to stand. Nothing else was said for so long that Peter started to think he and Steve should just leave.

Then, Fury sat back at his desk and looked them over. “Do you know who that man was?” he asked.

Peter shook his head. “No, sir.”

“He was the lead doctor at the facility you were at. He was to be charged with thirty-seven counts of murder for his experiments.”

Peter was, to say the least, surprised. “What?”

“I'm not going to tell you that your actions are excusable, but he was not an innocent civilian. Take solace in that.” Fury sighed and leaned back, reaching for a few papers on his desk. “You're both dismissed. Rogers, I want your report by morning.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said. He placed a hand on the small of Peter's back and drew him away, out of the office.

Shell shocked, Peter barely noticed when Wade came up to him, touching his face and his arms and asking if he was okay. Steve filled him and Natasha in on the details and Wade sighed in relief, holding Peter close to him. Peter just stood there, kind of empty inside.

{We're not dead yet?} Yellow's voice was timid, soft as he returned.

[I guess not.]

{Oh. Well, that's a relief. C'mon Spidey, this won't be too bad, it's just weekly meetings with the old guys.}

“Petey?” Wade asked softly, peering into Peter's face.

Slowly, Peter's eyes focused on him. He swallowed thickly and breathed, “I wanna go to sleep.”

Wade smiled, relieved, and huffed a laugh. “Of course. Let's go.”

Steve's hand brushed Peter's shoulder as he was led away and Natasha took Peter's hand until he was out of reach and she had to let go.

It was a while later that Peter found himself curled in bed with strong arms around him, having been changed out of his suit into pajamas and his face cleaned of tear tracks by Wade like he was a child. Wade had forced him to drink some water and then tucked him under the blankets on their bed only to crawl in after him.

“I'm really proud of you,” Wade whispered, his breath tickling the back of Peter's neck.

“Why?” Peter asked, confused.

{Should we be proud?}

[I don't think so . . .]

“You didn't run away. You stayed with us and it all turned out just fine, like I said it would.”

Peter took a deep breath and let it out, trying to get his body to actually relax. He was bone tired and his eyes ached and his throat was sore. “I didn't want to leave you,” he said truthfully.

{Right. We have to stay with Wade.}

[He's important to us.]

{You were the one who wanted to run away earlier.}

[We could have taken Wade with us.]

Wade's nose nuzzled into Peter's hair and he tightened his grip for just long enough to make Peter finally settle in and sigh with exhaustion. “Stay with me forever, okay? No matter what.”

“Okay,” Peter promised. "I'll stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stg the rest of this fic is going to be some happy and smutty fun good times. I needed this out of my system and then I'm going to wrap up with a couple of extras that are nice and fluffy and porny don't you worry your pretty little heads.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't hard—{Ha! Hard!}—to see where things had gone wrong. What was a little more difficult to understand was how Peter ended up with his back to the wall in his penthouse, Wade fucking into him like his life depended on it.

The day had started like many others, waking up in the tower well rested after a mission which had required the whole team. Peter had been summoned to the gym for his biweekly training sessions with Nat. He'd had his ass handed to him, as per usual, but they were making progress over the many weeks they had been working together.

After their sparring had come to an end, he and Nat had joined up with Clint in the kitchen, making lunch together and laughing about something or other. The three of them had become quite close over the months of working together and Peter found himself feeling good just by being around them most of the time anymore.

Then, Peter had waved goodbye and swung himself through the city to his and Wade's place. His boyfriend had unofficially moved into Peter's building ages ago, but he had _officially_ moved in just a few short weeks earlier. No longer did Wade have a drawer of stuff in Peter's bedroom and a few guns lying around on surfaces. No, now he had boxes in the living room that had yet to be unpacked and when Peter went home from the tower, he was going home to Wade.

Wade was lounging on the couch with his feet up, absently polishing the pieces of a pistol, when Peter entered through the window with a call of, “Honey, I'm home! Man, Nat really beat me up today, but Clint made lunch! What have you been up do my darling dearest?”

Peter stood before the couch, his hands on his hips and a wide smile that was slowly fading the longer Wade took to answer. “Wade? What's up?” he asked, more quietly.

{Is he sick?}

[He's kind of staring off into space.]

{You don't think he finally decided he hates us and wants to move out, right?}

“No, that's silly,” Peter said, though he couldn't deny the spark of fear that went through him. He leaned down, trying to look at Wade's face closer. “Wade? Babe? Are you with me?”

Wade shook himself and looked up, surprise written on his features before it softened a bit. “Oh, hey, Pete. Sorry. I was—uh—thinking.”

“Something wrong?” Peter asked, sitting beside him and frowning.

“No, no, don't worry.” Wade smiled at him though it didn't reach his eyes. He patted Peter's knee with one hand and looked down at the weapon in his hands. Peter didn't miss the way his brows drew together.

“Wade?” Now Peter was getting scared. Wade was never like this. He always said what was on his mind, always was truthful with Peter.

{Ask him what's wrong. Something must be wrong. He should talk to us!}

[He's probably going to say something we don't want to hear.]

{What?}

[He likes protecting us. If he's not talking, it means we probably won't like whatever he's not telling us.]

{Oh no.}

“Wade?” Peter tried again. “Just tell me what's on your mind, okay? You're scaring me,” he added in a small voice.

Slowly, Wade turned to him, setting down his gun and polishing cloth. He let out a sigh and Peter's heart was beating way too hard. “I'm sorry, Petey—”

{Oh God no.}

[He's . . .]

“—I've just been thinking about things.”

“Like what?” Peter squeaked. He was close to panic. On the brink of flight. If Wade was going to say what he feared most Wade might say, he might just lose his mind. More than he'd already lost it.

“I'm not so sure this is a great idea. . .”

Peter's breath stopped. Wade wasn't looking at him, but was glancing around the room with his lips pursed.

“ . . . but, I was thinking we should—”

{Fuck, fuck, fuck!}

[Even I'm terrified. We should what? What should we do?]

“—we should redecorate.”

Peter's brain shorted out for a few long moments. So long that Wade actually turned to look at him, head cocked and eyes confused.

{Re-redecorate? Did he really just say . . ?}

[All that buildup. For _that_? What kind of tropey fic . . .]

“You want to redecorate,” Peter whispered, his voice monotone.

“I know, I know, I only just actually moved in and it might be too soon. But I think it'd be nice to, I don't know, give the place a new coat of paint. What do you think?” Wade was smiling at him and Peter started laughing.

He laughed hysterically, unable to do much else.

“Peter? Why are you laughing like that?” Wade asked, his face so preciously worried. He touched Peter's shoulder.

Wiping his eyes, Peter tried to relax, burying his earlier panic. “Oh my _God_ , Wade!”

“What?”

“I thought—Jesus—I thought you were going to break up with me! You asshole!” Peter gasped. He looked at Wade with a brilliant smile, feeling like an idiot.

{But an idiot in love.}

[He said it.]

Wade's gaze widened. “You thought . . . oh shit! Oh Petey, I'm sorry!” A nervous laugh left his throat. “I'm not breaking up with you, don't you worry. I'm so stupid, of course you would think that.”

{Did he really expect anything else?}

[He's a bit thick sometimes if you haven't noticed.]

“I'd love to redecorate,” Peter told him finally. “Whatever you want. We can go look at paint colors tomorrow or something.”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good.” Wade tackled him to the cushions between one breath and the next and he pressed his lips to Peter's cheeks and all around his face. “You dumb kid, I'm not gonna break up with you.”

“Well how was I supposed to know?” Peter asked breathlessly. He was grinning, his hands holding onto Wade's head.

“By this point, you should just _know_. You know?”

Peter laughed and he leaned his chin up so he could catch Wade's lips in a kiss.

Flashing forward about twenty minutes and half a blowjob later had Peter up against the wall of the living room, legs around Wade's waist and arms wound around Wade's neck. His breathing was harsh, every exhale a moan against Wade's temple.

“Don't think,” Wade panted, “for a _second—_ fuck, baby boy—that I'm _ever_ gonna leave you. Christ, _shit_.”

Peter was past the ability to respond, his cock so hard it _hurt_ while Wade pounded into him so fiercely that the back of his mind niggled with the worry of cracking the plaster behind his naked back. “Wade,” he gasped, fingers tightly gripping the flesh around Wade's shoulders. “Harder, _please_.”

Peter's pleads and cries did not fall on deaf ears and Wade's hips snapped faster, harder, deeper. Peter felt so good, so full, so . . . much. It was like Wade had become the spider and he was caught in a web, the arms and body of his lover becoming a cocoon that Peter had no qualms about staying in and being devoured by.

“ _Petey_ ,” Wade whispered. “God, I fucking love you, Petey. I love you so much and I-I want you to feel so good. Don't want you to ever doubt that or doubt me.”

The feel of Wade's thick cock inside of him, pressing against his prostate so harshly, was too much. It took all of Peter's strength and focus to hold onto Wade. His body was singing with pleasure and the ache of Wade's borderline violent thrusts. There was nothing in the world that felt so good as _Wade_.

Wade in his hands. Wade in his body. Wade at his lips and tasting like he always did. Wade's hands were tight on Peter's body. His skin was rough, flushed with blood and slippery with sweat.

No kill had ever satisfied Peter the way Wade could satisfy him with a kiss or a touch. His hand around Peter's dick or his body writhing on their bed with Peter looming over him. Wade could make him feel more powerful than he'd ever felt before.

The gentlest of touches were breathtaking and the hardest presses thrilling.

“Wade,” Peter groaned, the name punched from his lungs. “Please, I gotta—I need to come so bad.”

“I've got you.” Wade turned his face so their mouths met, hard kisses more like sharing breath than sharing taste.

Peter moaned, loud and long. His eyes shut in ecstasy as he came between their bodies, Wade's arms around him and holding him so tight he could barely move but for the rocking of his body onto Wade's cock.

It didn't take long for Wade to come, too, burying his face into Peter's neck as the younger man's fingers ran over his scalp.

They spent a few minutes just breathing each other in. Wade's hands relaxed their grip until he was just caressing Peter's skin and Peter let his fingertips trace invisible patterns across Wade's upper back. Finally, Wade tilted his face so he could kiss Peter ever so gently, their tongues moving together slow and steady, lips so familiar to each other.

[Disgusting.]

{You love it, too, don't lie. Petey gets to feel so happy and good!}

“Wade?” Peter mumbled after a while, when the larger man was finally letting his soft dick leave Peter's body.

“Yeah, baby?”

Peter stood on his own two feet, holding onto Wade's shoulders as he minutely stretched his muscles. “I'm not really sure I believe you're not gonna leave yet.” He looked up into Wade's blank face, feeling playful and his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Think you could prove it to me for the rest of the night?”

Wade stared at him for a few seconds before he laughed and scooped Peter up, throwing him over his shoulder despite Peter's sudden protest. “Oh, baby, I'll prove it to you for as long as it takes. I'll prove it for the next three days if that's what you need.”

A carefree giggle left Peter's mouth and he reached down to get handfuls of Wade's ass, making the man yelp and smack the back of his thigh lightly.

 

It didn't end up taking three days but just two fantastic, lazy nights. Plus a few extra minutes for a rough handjob on the quinjet at the start of their next assignment, shortly before everyone else arrived. The rest of the team passed off Peter's flushed face and quietness as nerves, but Wade pinched one cheek of his ass and laughed when Peter swatted at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got just one more epilogue-like chapter and then I'm thinking I need to be done with this story and move back to other things. Thank you everyone for the feedback and sticking with me!


	6. Chapter 6

Peter's phone was ringing with May's ringtone and he had to flick his wrist to web the device over to where he was sprawled out on his and Wade's bed in the tower.

Wade, behind him, asked, “Are you really gonna answer that? Now?”

Instead of telling him off, Peter just held the phone to his ear and greeted, “Hey, Aunt May.”

Wade made a noise half between a laugh and an annoyed huff. His hands were on Peter's ass, pulling apart his flesh to expose his already thoroughly fucked hole.

“Hi, honey,” May started conversationally. She sounded distracted as she told him, “I'm just calling to say I'm home safe, no need to worry about me tonight.”

A tongue pressed against Peter's taint and up his crack, wet and warm. “Oh! That's—that's good,” Peter told her, having to fight to keep his voice in check. Wade chuckled.

Months ago, Peter had ended up telling May that he'd been following her home the whole time he was out of her life and even once he'd made up with her. At first she had been shocked but then she had thought it sweet of him. She'd promptly told him to stop because she was “a grown woman” and “can take care of herself”. Peter had argued with her about until she agreed to send him a text or call him whenever she got home from work and if she didn't contact him within a certain time, he was allowed to panic a little and make sure everything was okay.

“I was thinking about making a big dinner tomorrow night,” May continued absently.

Peter's lips were pressed tightly together as Wade shoved his tongue past the outer ring of muscle, probing at his insides. Squirming around, Peter barely managed to hum in a high pitch, letting May know he was paying attention.

“Spaghetti and meatballs maybe. It'd be nice if you and Wade could come over.”

“Yeah,” Peter squeaked. “We could do that.”

“Great!” May sounded exceedingly pleased. “You could invite your other friends, too. Natasha and Clint, right?”

Wade's fingers were kneading the pale flesh of Peter's cheeks, his nose buried against Peter's skin and tongue-fucking him into oblivion. Peter's head was getting a little hazy, his eyes almost rolling back and his toes curling against the sheets.

“Right,” Peter muttered. He was starting to pray for the end of the phone call and the end of Wade's attention. But he was _very_ attentive.

“I know I don't say it enough, Peter, but I'm so glad you found friends like them. People who care about you. And I'm so happy for you and Wade! He's so good for you.” May sounded wistful and Peter was having a very hard time listening.

Peter bit back a moan. “Yeah, he's good,” he said, getting another low laugh from Wade as his boyfriend pulled away before getting a mouthful of Peter's skin and biting down. Peter's hips jerked against the bed and he clenched his fist, the one not holding the phone to his ear. “We'll be there for dinner tomorrow, okay? And— _ah!_ —thanks for calling.”

“Of course, Peter. I just wish you wouldn't worry about me so much. You're so much like your uncle.”

“I know, I know,” Peter grumbled. When Wade pressed a kiss to his hole, he quickly told May, “I love you, I'll see you tomorrow!” Peter hung up just as Wade's tongue flicked over his rim and then pushed inside again, making the younger man writhe and moan, unable to hold it back anymore.

“Took you long enough,” Wade mumbled against his skin, pressing a kiss to the knobbly base of his spine.

“Shut up and get me off,” Peter whined, all but thrashing against Wade's hold. He shoved his phone to the floor so it was out of the way.

“Touchy today, are we?” Wade teased.

Peter groaned into the bed, his hands fisting the sheets. “You've made me come twice in the last hour. I'm pretty _sensitive_ right now.”

Leaning over him, Wade kissed Peter's shoulder blade and drew his lips across smooth skin. Without so much as a warning, Wade's cock was pressing into Peter's slicked and already loose hole.

A whimper left Peter's throat, the sudden stimulation just this side of painful and definitely too much. Wade set a slow pace, showing none of the brutality he'd had in their first round of the night. Their second round had been considerably gentler but still fast and full of passion. Peter liked it however Wade would give it to him, happy to just experience the pleasure of being with his lover.

“ _Fuck_ , you feel so fucking good,” Wade babbled, his hips moving as a leisurely pace despite his rough grip on Peter's hips.

“You say that every time,” Peter told him quietly, surprised at his own coherence. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut as he shook with shivers of heavenly ecstasy, almost delirious with it.

“It's true.” Wade grunted and stopped to adjust their position just slightly before moving again, a bit faster and a lot harder. “Love fucking you. Love _feeling_ you.”

“Love you, too,” Peter gasped, grinning to himself momentarily.

With a dark huff of laughter, Wade got his mouth near Peter's ear, taking one hand from his body to hold himself up against the bed. “Come on, Petey, I know you can come again. You've got it in you.”

“I've got _you_ in me,” Peter quipped.

Wade's teeth bit into his neck. “And you're gonna come with me in you, baby,” he said, voice low and husky. “Apparently I'm not—ah, _fuck—_ doing something right because you're still being snippy with me.” Peter moaned again as Wade managed to aim his thrusts right against Peter's prostate. “Touch yourself,” Wade ordered suddenly.

Peter complied with a shudder, shoving one hand under his body to grab at his dick and jerk himself fast. He quickly devolved into a wanton mess after that, his whole body trembling as his orgasm wracked his bones, making him pant and gasp and whine Wade's name.

Wade took barely another minute before he was spilling inside of Peter, holding onto the younger man's lax body with an unrelenting grasp, groaning into Peter's skin.

They fell apart after a while and Peter twitched, grimacing, when Wade pulled out of his sore and now extra oversensitive ass. While getting their breaths and heartbeats back to normal, Peter pulled Wade into him, snuggling close and laying his head on the older man's chest. Wade's arms wrapped him up tight.

Yellow came back first in the post-orgasmic glow to say, {Another evening of great sex. I wish I could congratulate Wade.}

“So, what did May have to say?” Wade asked quietly.

Peter chuckled breathily against him. “Dinner tomorrow night at her place. We're supposed to bring Clint and Nat, too.”

“The whole family! Well, minus Cap and the Iron Asshole and the other two who fucked off to God knows where.”

[It _has_ been quite a while since we've seen Banner. Thor probably has godly duties to perform.]

“And Sam and Bucky,” Peter listed dutifully. “They're part of the team.”

“Yeah, Steve would probably throttle anyone who says otherwise.” Wade let out a long sigh, relaxing. “Speaking of, how is group time with the vets going?”

{It sucks! Bunch of crotchety people complaining about the wars.}

[It's not the worst.]

{Nah, the worst would probably be something like Villains Anonymous.} Yellow paused. {Actually that might be fun.}

“Boring, mostly. But Fury hasn't said anything about letting me skip out so I've got to keep going.”

“You think it's helping?”

{No.}

[Yes.]

Peter pursed his lips and shifted his head around. “Maybe.” He let out a breath and added, “I'm not really sure. I haven't had a panic attack or anything for a while. Then again, we haven't really been doing much but laid back assignments and each other lately.”

“It's still a good sign. Whatever Fury says, I think you should stick with it. Maybe you should talk more? Get things out of your head and into the air.” Wade gestured with one hand before he dropped it and ran his fingers over Peter's arm.

[Things are fine in here.]

{Eh, debatable.}

“I'll think about it,” Peter conceded.

Wade lifted his head to press his lips to Peter's hair. “Don't think too hard. Get some sleep. We'll talk to Natasha and Barton about dinner in the morning.”

With a heavy sigh, Peter snuggled closer, pleased when Wade pet at his bare skin and squeezed him for a moment.

{In the morning, we should have waffles.}

[You're just saying that because you're thinking about _Shrek_ again.]

{Somebody once told me—}

“Yellow!” Peter hissed. “Go to sleep.”

There was a sigh and then, {Fine. But waffles?}

“Remind me in the morning,” Peter huffed.

“All three of you go to sleep.” Wade's mumble made Peter smile and he settled in.

The boxes were quiet but not restless. Peter was warm and cozy and happy to be next to the man he loved. He never would have guessed his life would become this, but he couldn't really think of anything he'd do differently, if only so he'd end up right here. Wade's heartbeat finally lulled him to sleep, and he didn't dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this ending sucks and is short. I had a few other ideas but I decided to just finish this up quick and call it good. It's unlikely I'll ever revisit this series for a bonus, but I never say never.
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading this and commenting and just being lovely people. I appreciate you all so much!


End file.
